Field Repairs
by Burnedtoasty
Summary: TF2k7: What happened with the Decepticons while the Autobots were arriving? They bickered. What else would they do?


**Disclaimer**: _I, in no way, shape, or form, own the Transformers© franchise or the characters it contains. All publicly recognizable characters are copyrighted to Hasbro, and the respective artists/writers/et cetera. No infringement intended._

**Continuity**: TF2K7 (Transformers 2007 movie-verse)

**Characters**: Brawl, Barricade, Starscream, Blackout

**Warnings**: None.

**Author's Note**: Criticism encouraged, technical points preferable. Yes, I realize it is slightly out-of-continuity, given that the fact that the Decepticons are, apparently, already gathered at the city before the Autobots even arrived. This was not realized until after the fact, and it was found to be extremely difficult to attempt to change the situation so it could be shoehorned into the movie. Forgive me my faults.

If it makes you feel better, close your eyes and pretend they are in the desert.

--

"It's past check in."

Starscream grimaced, claws flexing in irritation. "I was aware of that," He snapped, casting dimmed optics across the distant city skyline. It was _long_ past the time for the designated correspondence, in fact, if he cared to check his own chronometer.

"Maybe someone should go looking for him," Brawl grumbled, still attempting to dig the sand from between his joints with large, cumbersome fingers.

"Who do you suggest? Me? You?" Starscream hissed. "Don't be absurd."

"It's why we took on these ugly forms, isn't it?" retorted Brawl, snidely. "So we could blend in. Tanks aren't that uncommon."

"They are on city streets. Which you would have realized, had you bothered to check your facts."

"Who said I'd be on the street?"

Sighing, Starscream wandered away from his post, and away from the suitably large but unfortunately idiotic warrior. "That, dearest Brawl, is exactly my point." By accident more than deliberate intent, he found himself standing nearly beside Blackout.

The rotored Decepticon shifted, reallocating his weight for a more even, comfortable distribution. He glanced at the impromptu commander askance, and quickly averted his gaze back out over the darkness.

"Perhaps we should move out," He said, just low enough for Brawl to not bother taking notice. "There are more secure locations further from the hive-city."

"No. Here. I don't want to risk being any further than we have to if Barricade radios in."

Blackout grimaced, clearly put on edge by the proximity of the tarmac roadway and the humans traveling by their location. His uneasiness was not without good reason; the small force had gathered in the very heart of enemy 

territory, with assistance too far away to make much difference. The risk of discovery was high – growing exponentially by the moment as they lingered, awaiting the affirmation of success from their infiltrating team. Still, the helicopter fell silent, point made.

Mightily resisting the urge to fidget, the jet again turned his attention to the horizon. Distantly, a horn honked, followed by faint cursing and shouting as some irate driver berated another.

Dare he break radio silence, perhaps distracting Barricade from his delegated task? Perhaps he would alert the enemy to the spy's location; horror of horrors, letting the filth that was the Autobot force know where the target was located.

No. No, the mission was too vital to give in to such worries. It was a fairly straightforward assignment, in theory – simple retrieval, with only one confirmed enemy unit to contend with. However, many variables were possible in the thick of the organic hive; traffic, assorted targets moving out of range, witnesses… their time frame was not critical, for the moment.

Still… it _had_ been quite some time since the last appointed communication slot.

"Brawl had the right of it," Blackout suggested loudly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "We shouldn't just wait here. We should ascertain his last known location. Infiltrate the air space. There is barely any need for secrecy, any longer."

"And let you ruin another reconnaissance operation with your blundering?" Starscream growled, perhaps too hastily. It would not do to alienate his meager forces; not at such a time, in such crisis. Not with the enemy so close by.

He hesitated, wondering how much he wanted to give in front of his restive subordinates. "… But perhaps you are correct."

The admission came hard to him, rankling his pride. Surrender, of a sort, this acquiescence to nervousness. An confession of weakness, it was; of frailty in belief for their cause, for his own orders – potential for insubordination greatly increased. Megatron wouldn't have fallen to such apprehension – as Blackout surely knew, flunky that he was.

Repressing the disagreeable notion, the jet straightened, turning to head for a more sheltered location to take off from. "Wait here. I'll radio within the hour."

"Affirmative." Blackout acknowledged placidly, the twin points of his red swiveling about to track Starscream's progress through the underbrush. Hungry – _calculating_ – that gaze… filled with silent accusations, reports to be placed in far more dangerous hands, when said hands were found.

Though he wouldn't admit it, Starscream was relieved when the Pavelow fell out of sight, swallowed up by the darkness and the foliage.

--

Slaggit.

Starscream swung about for another look, disliking what he saw. The Autobot had already fled the location, their targets in tow. Its energy signature was a disgustingly familiar buzz about the atmosphere, the lingering scent of 

ozone and charged cannons – overridden with the reek of battle. Burnt metal, fried circuits – leaking fuel lines… someone had taken quite a beating in the abandoned gravel pit.

Seeing no point in remaining silent, Starscream sent out a small pulse, an indication his location to all who cared to open their frequencies. There was little time to lose; they had to catch up to the enemy before the targeted organic and item became irrevocably lost.

Weakly, a second pulse flared and died.

Powering down his thrusters to their lowest setting, Starscream twisted his body about, transforming, both legs straightened toward the ground. With a peculiar, ponderous grace, he descended into one of the darker areas of the lot, scanners set to optimum efficiency to pick up on any and all traces of life, lest he be observed. Thankfully, no humans seemed to be about, allowing him to land in relative peace, crouching low in the shifting grave.

_\Barricade, your location_?\ He radioed, on a closed channel. Let Blackout wonder in the dark for a little longer.

_\Coordinates... unknown.\_ The scout's signal was barely discernable amidst the static, a haze of pain and lack of power obscuring his flare.

Straightening, Starscream crept along the primitive mechanical devices, skulking in the shadows. Barricade had to be close; his radio wouldn't reach far, if he was in as bad repair as Starscream believed. He should have—

Ah, there.

The Decepticon turned about, like a hound on the scent, cautiously approaching his soldier's position. "Barricade," He called imperiously, cresting the small rise to glare down at the scrap heap that remained of the scout.

Obstinately, the police vehicle grimaced, struggling to rise, to not appear any weaker before the commander. Vulnerability was death, in the Decepticon forces. Unforgivable.

"Tch," Starscream grunted, sliding down the incline to bump against the downed scout. "How pathetic. Couldn't even take out a juvenile primitive and _one_ Autobot."

"S-surprised me," Barricade grumbled, pride rankled. "D-d-didn't think… be so fast."

"Maybe you shouldn't be so slow, then." Starscream muttered, running his scanners to check the depth of the damage. If it was irreparable, he would destroy the scout; a hard loss for his small force, but not overly so. Barricade was replaceable, and it would be a simple matter to dispose of the remains.

"One t-to talk… tagged by primates in the… air." Barricade managed to croon, hacking out a laugh.

"I was distracted!" Starscream snapped, affronted. This was mostly cosmetic damage, though certainly extensive. Mostly to the struts and outer shell, the core untouched. "Where has Frenzy gone?"

"I…" Barricade paused, uncertain, sending out a private pulse to his counterpart. "T-t-traveling. With the human f-female. In disguise."

"Location?" Starscream asked tersely, beginning the preliminary patch-up, focusing the larger sections Barricade's internal repair system could not readily fix. Unfortunate, that loss of their smallest team member. Frenzy was much 

more capable at delicate repairs than most. Still, he was passable enough at hasty field maintenance.

"U-unknown. Dark."

"Typical," Sparks flew as he clamped a cable closed, eliciting a roar of an engine from the downed scout.

"Careful!"

"That was careful," Starscream growled, re-aligning several wires to give life back to the scout's legs. "At what power are you running?"

"Around… fifty-seven percent. I—"

Both twisted their heads about, shudders racking their frames. Far overhead, the dark sky was lit in gold and orange, four identical comets blazing trails across the atmosphere. In silence, they watched the brilliant forms skid across the darkness, falling down and out of sight in distant horizons, leaving naught but empty air in their wake.

Balking, Starscream reluctantly dragged his gaze down, meeting that of the scout. Those energy signals had been unmistakable, even at their distance.

"… I do believe we are out of time."


End file.
